Bring on the wonder

I look around in awe. The computer buzzes to me, the soft supple leather beneath me pushes up and supports me, the smell of brisk cold, the rythmical clanking of depressed and released keys, my silken case holding a beloved iPod charging on a white winding cord. Beauty in the mundane. May I never lose this sense of wonder.

People are all around me. Some are laughing about nothing, some are reading about everything, some are talking, some are thinking, some are staring, some are wearing (out) studying books and doing homework. The gentle rays of the sun peek through a wall of glass to watch the youth at break, tickling their rosy cheeks with the warmth they cannot feel when they walk outside, even though it is still there. I am reading a book, learning about Truth and Beauty, God and Love. (What more do I need?) A beautiful voice rings through my ears, singing of cigarettes and dreams in Barnes and Nobles, so I cannot hear what the world around me is saying -- but I know. I feel such peace and warmth, such joy. I look at the broad face of a girl with flashing white teeth as she laughs and chats, and swinging black hair as she gestures around the crowded room. How could I ever have found such despair here? It shows only joy to me now. I am so excited and content, I see no pain. It is too depressing, and it weighs on my heart (no longer).

Driving down a black highway with a lover-friend for company, we are simply a pair of lights traveling through the darkness with other lights surronding us, speeding and weaving, until we come up a concentrated population, all gathered to see a simple game.

"It's amazing!" my companion cries, and goes on to explain her sense of wonder.
I laugh at her and tease her.
It's only a stadium, it's only some people.
But in her eyes, it is a miracle.
I am sensing that now, I am a little older, and a little wiser.
Come to me growth, bring on the wonder.